


Wrong Spook

by matrixrefugee



Category: Supernatural, 闇の末裔 | Yami No Matsuei | Descendants of Darkness
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-20 08:39:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17619107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matrixrefugee/pseuds/matrixrefugee
Summary: Jo encounters the weirdest, most unlikely reaper ever





	Wrong Spook

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](https://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/profile)[fic_promptly](https://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/)'s [Supernatural/author's choice, Jo Harvelle & or /author's choice, the truth--impure and complicated](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/16734.html?thread=865118#cmt865118) Featuring a rather rattled Asato Tsuzuki.

"I saw you, demon, standing over that girl who'd died," Jo said, her knee pinning the Asian looking guy's chest, her knife at his throat. The guy stared up at her, his violet eyes wide: the color of his eyes gave away his nature. Asian people usually had dark eyes, but she had to admit, she had never seen a demon with violet eyes. "So tell me: what did you do with her soul?"

"I didn't do anything with her soul. I just helped her cross over to the other side," the Asian guy squawked, wriggling under her, clearly trying to get away, but she would have none of that.

"You killed her, in so many words," Jo snapped, pressing the knife harder against the demon's throat, hard enough to draw blood.

"She was dying a normal death: her time had come and I'd arrived to help her pass over painlessly," the Asian guy grunted. "I'm telling you the truth, pure and simple."

"Likely story: I know a thing or two about the truth, and it's never simple and never pure," she said, turning the blade onto its point, pressing it into the guy's throat.

"Gick," the Asian guy gagged, closing his eyes and wincing. She had never seen a demon do that, for all their cowardly ways.

"All right, then, what are you?" Jo said, lifting the blade from the guy's throat. the cut she had left quickly closing itself up.

"I'm a shinigami, a guardian of death," he rasped. "It's my job to find the souls of the dying and the dead and help them pass on into the next world."

Jo nearly dropped the knife, as if it had caught fire. "You're a reaper," she said. How had she done that? How had she cornered a reaper? You couldn't hold those things down except with the worst kinds of black magic, involving human sacrifice and on top of that, you had to keep sacrificing people to keep the spell charged.

The reaper sat up. Jo backed away, expecting the reaper to lunge at her, grab her, and take her soul. Instead, he stood up, dusting the skirts of his black trenchcoat before thrusting his hands into the pockets. She snatched up the knife, holding it up, just in case.

"So... You're not going to kill me?" she asked.

He blinked, giving her a blankly confused look. "Kill you? No, not at all," he said. "We're not supposed to take the souls of people who aren't due to die yet. I mean, there's been shinigami who went off the reservation, so to speak, and started ending the lives of people without proper authorization. When it does, we deal with them pretty quickly."

"What do you do with them?" Jo said, lowering the knife, but keeping a hold on it.

"We send them to hell, for remedial education, some of them," the shinigami said, gravely. "Others don't learn from their mistakes and they have to be removed from service. The King of Hades handles those cases, not me. Glad I don't have to: I don't even like taking people's souls across into the afterlife, especially if they're very young people with their whole lives ahead of them. I mean, if it's an older person who's lived a long, full life and they've been sick or in suffering and they're ready for that to end, that's one thing."

"So let me get this straight: you're a death god who doesn't like killing people?" Jo asked, still keeping the blade in hand, but lowering it to her side, almost ready to slot it back into its sheath at her belt.

"That's it in a nutshell," the death god replied.

She looked him up and down. "So why do you look like a Fed?" she asked.

"Oh, because I work for the Ministry of Hades," the death god replied. "Summons Section, to be precise. I'm Asato Tsuzuki," he added, bowing to her.

"I'm... Jo..." she replied, hesitating, not sure she should tell him that kind of information.

"Jo, that's a nice strong name for a girl," the death god -- Mister Tsuzuki -- replied. "Nice to meet you, though I wish it could have been in better circumstances.

"So, ah, you seem to know a lot about things like me," he hedged.

"How can you tell that?" she asked, wary now.

"Well, you're not freaking out over all this weird stuff that I've just been talking about," he noted. "And you called me a demon when you had me pinned down."

"All right, you got me there: I'm a Hunter," she said.

He nodded. "Yeah, I've heard of those types: we've worked with a few from time to time, but they usually don't trust us."

"Mostly because we don't trust reapers," she said.

"Yeah, the ones here in the States can be a little less organized than where I come from in Japan."

"Japan? What are you doing here in America?" she asked, wondering if she should have sheathed the knife. Or if it would do any good.

"Oh, that girl I took the other night was a Japanese national living abroad, so they sent me to bring her home through the proper channel," Tsuzuki replied. "I thought I'd stick around for a little sight-seeing. You've got a fascinating country here, and I like the pizza."

"You're kidding: a death god who likes pizza?" she said.

"You bet! Care for a slice?" he offered.

"No, thanks," she said, not about to share a meal with a thing that could take her life with one touch. Though this guy hardly looked capable of that. Still, you could not risk it with one of these things...


End file.
